EACH OF US HAS OUR PRIVATE TRAGEDY, OUR BLUES.
Who hasn’t at least occasionally felt they were sinking further into the abyss of an ever azure ocean of doom? When I am sinking in my own abyss, sometimes I try to redirect and sink into someone else’s little hole in hell. So sometimes with a human touch we rise together out from where we so sadly were.
Somewhere a friend may need you. You may not know it. When a friend most needs to call, they hesitate to call at all. Such is the paralysis of pathos. So call your friends when you have no reason.
Unknowing, long dead Picasso calls me silently. Picasso knows the blues so certain. Not the Picasso of the famous fractured cube. But the earlier Picasso of a new century, the Picasso who was blue.
Pablo Picasso speaks to me with silence. His art so often calls to us silently. In his dignity and grace I am in his debt.
MAY IS NATIONAL MENTAL HEALTH MONTH.
No one is ever as alone as they think, but who can say that so calmly when the dark dog of depression is chewing at your leg? Who can find the strength to step outside themselves when the world seems to stomp on them?
How do you help yourself? Is Legal Medication Your Answer? Why?
What about playing your own doctor? Pills? Booze?
Have you ever thought the only solution is a permanent one? Lots of questions, Lots of answers. Please share both in comments here. Thanks.
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